


Explosions In The Sky

by Nocte



Series: Fine Silk, Fine Wine, Fine Men [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Bullying, Dragon Age Inquisition Spoilers, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Homophobia, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Peer Pressure, Romance, Smut, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-03-05 11:51:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3119114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nocte/pseuds/Nocte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mahanon has a lot on his plate, the Breach, Corypheus, nobles who can't get it together. He's not alone though and a certain Mage helps ground him through his trifles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. On Melancholy Hill

**Author's Note:**

> I've made the Inquisitor look like my own canon elf, his name is still Mahanon so you can imagine your own if you like! I'll try and make this fairly close to canon but it's possible some parts will stray just so y'all get your fill of Dorian/Lavellan

It's not that Dorian hated the Hissing Wastes, but he _really_ hated them. The whole open plain thing really didn't strike his fancy.

He was grateful the inquisitor invited him to slay Venatori with him, but the only thing that could make the Wastes worse than the Western Approach is if they _both_ had High dragons.

"Pardon my asking, but do you even know where this watchtower is?" Dorian asked, running a hand over his hair to assure himself it had kept its form.

"No but...it should be here somewhere..." the elf trailed off, sizing up the cliffs in front of him. Dorian emitted a sigh and looked around as Mahanon headed to their left.

Dorian couldn't help his eyes from wandering to his lean backside. He may look scrawny on the outside but Dorian knew the truth under those robes. It grew unnaturally silent, the Iron Bull hadn't made a lewd comment in little over an hour, remarkable, but the night was young.

"White hot pain, it's bright, too bright, everything hurts," came Cole's unnaturally soft voice.

"Whatever are you talking about, Cole?" Dorian said when no one else spoke up.

"Why won't they stop? They were your friends," Cole continued, the party's paced slowed to a crawl as Mahanon stopped, not turning around.

"It hurts, I want to help," Cole started, but Mahanon cut in with a firm, "Cole."

"No, why would they do this? Another punch, blood down your shirt, crumpling to the floor, they kick you. You loved them but they betrayed you," Cole rapidly finished.

"Cole!" Mahanon spun around, fire in his hazel eyes. Everyone took a step back and Mahanon sighed. "Please, just stop."

"But Mahanon..everything is tangled, if I can get this free you'll stop hurting...!"

The silence was tense, the sounds of wind brushing across the sand made Dorian realize Mahanon must have been thinking about his past in the clan, he had no idea it was so bad.  
"You can't," Mahanon almost whispered, the pain in his eyes made Dorians heart lurch. "Please Cole."

"'No!'," Cole yelled to a taken-aback Mahanon. "'Please stop!' They won't listen, finally one grabs your wrist, 'For my sister,' he says lowly, snap, broken, screaming, laughing, it's over but the tears won't stop."

"Enough!" the elf hissed, turning on his heel, though changing direction to the latest camp they established, presumably to send Cole back to Skyhold and replace him with Cassandra.

"It hurts more, I'm sorry, I wanted to help, I couldn't pull it loose and it just got tighter," Cole said as the Inquisitor scribbled his request for Cassandra. A small, sad smile was forced on his face. "I know Cole, but I think this is best, dareth shiral." Cole nodded and mounted his horse, heading off at a trot.

Mahanon closed his eyes and sighed, face towards the stars. Dorian thought it appropriate to approach him, placing a hand lightly on his thin shoulder. Mahanon opened his eyes and glanced Dorian's way, bringing his hand up to place on top of the Tevinter's. Dorian opened his mouth to address what Cole had said but the hardness that suddenly set in the elf's eyes left him speechless.

"I'm sorry, not now," he said, turning towards his tent, stopping before he ducked inside. "Dorian...I think it would be best if we slept separate tonight," he murmured, an obvious strain in his voice made Dorian nod.

"Ah but Mahanon...?"

"Yes lethallin?"

Dorian came closer and cupped Mahanon's face, enduring the pain in his big fawn eyes. "Please tell me when you're comfortable," he said softly, kissing him lightly before letting him slip into his tent. He sighed and turned to his own tent, it was about to be a lonely night in paradise.


	2. Grand Optimist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian coaxes the truth out of Mahanon.

Mahanon had been in his quarters for two days before Dorian had enough. He marched through the Great Hall and slipped inside the Inquisitors private room. Cautiously going up the stairs he found Mahanon laying in bed, it was probably safe to assume he'd been wallowing there the whole time. 

Dorian quietly sat on the edge of the bed and spoke gently, "Amatus, I've drawn a bath, join me will you?"

Mahanon rubbed his face with his hands and glanced sideways at Dorian before throwing the covers off and sitting up. Mahanon ran a hand through his hair, stopping when he reached the shaved part in the back. 

Dorian stood up and offered his hand, the elf taking it and holding firm as he let Dorian lead him around. They reached the steaming bath and without saying a word, Dorian's hands were at the hem of Mahanon's shirt. Tugging it gently over his head, he discarded it on the floor as the elf worked his pants and smalls off, stepping into the warm water. Dorian removed his own clothes, joining his Inquisitor. Dorian stared thoughtfully at the elf as he swirled the water about and whispered for him to turn around.

"I'll wait, you know that, but let me help," he whispered into Mahanon's back, kissing a tan, freckled shoulder as he sat back, forcing the elf to sink deeper into the water while using him as a back rest. The Inquisitor rested his hands on Dorian's thighs, stroking them up and down.

"All right, are you ready?" he asked lowly as he leaned into Dorian.

"I am, as you say down south, 'all ears'," he whispered back with a slight smile.

"What Cole was talking about...in the clan I wasn't always friends with the children my age who were practicing to be hunters as I practiced my magic...

"If I wasn't enough of an outcast, the first person I had been attracted to had been male, and unlike Tevinter, those types of relationships were not tolerated in the slightest. "For years I was chastised by my Keeper, my mother, my closest friend, to be inclined to like the girls of the clan. If we couldn't expand the clan then what was the point of a relationship?" Dorian made a knowing sound, encouraging him to continue.

"And one day I turned down an offer from a girl my age, Hana, I was polite but her brother, Sadron, wasn't so much. He kicked the shit out of me and eventually his friends-my friends too-joined him. No one particularly wanted to be on his bad side..." Mahanon trailed off and Dorian placed a hand on his knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze, issuing a sigh from the smaller man.

"One of them ended up hitting me right in the nose, it was a clean break but I'd waited too long to fix it as you could probably tell, Sadron broke my wrist as a last dagger to the back, and the rift between me and the other children worsened beyond any repair I was willing to commit to." He sighed, running a finger over the bridge of his nose self-consciously.

"Well I find it absolutely endearing," Dorian said lowly into his ear. A smile crept onto Mahanon's face as he turned and angled his head to look up at the Tevinter. 

"It's probably entertaining to hear how helpless I was as a child," Lavellan muttered.

"At the time I might have begged to see it, but I'm sure if this happened now it would be a much different outcome, yes?"

Mahanon ran a hand along the inside of Dorian's thigh, "I suppose... I do have the scary Tevinter on my side now," he said with a sly smile.

Dorian said nothing but leaned down to kiss the elf's shoulder, biting hard enough to mark Mahanon as his, he could worry about that fact tomorrow. Rewarded with a groan of approval, he smiled into the crook of his neck.

"Focus on me for tonight, amatus, I'll show you the brighter side of things."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter because I'm not sure where I want to go with this, enjoy the dumb fluff!


	3. Love Underground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People around Skyhold have been talking about their dear Inquisitor and his relationship with a Tevinter mage, Dorian makes sure to confirm their suspicions.

A knock at the door to the Inquisitor's quarters faintly registered in the back of Dorian's mind, he'd planned on ignoring it when Mahanon decided to release himself from his grip. He did not let go willingly, the elf was the perfect temperature when flush to his own body. His hands tightened around the Inquisitor's waist and he heard a chuckle. Only the elf could be in high enough spirits this early in the morning to emit the sound Dorian loved. 

Warm hands pried Dorian's own loose, enough to wiggle out of the warm bed. The Tevinter made a noise of protest, opening an eye to glare Mahanon down. He felt a weight come down on top of him and turned on his back, Mahanon straddling his waist.

"I'll never tire of this view," Dorian mumbled, eyes scouring the tan, naked body on top of him. What a night it had been, after their bath Mahanon had been quite persistent in relieving more stress. He'd agreed, not only loving when the elf topped, but also so he let loose the rest of the weight on his lover's shoulders. 

Last night had become quite primal, they dismissed most use of words and they both left their marks on each other. Dorian admired his handy work, bruises flowing from Mahanon's stomach to his neck, he noticed a particular on the right side that may prove difficult to cover up with his simple swooping neck shirt. 

Dorian's hands wandered over the elf's thighs and the knock came at the door again, jolting them both from their reverie. Mahanon leant down to place a few kisses along Dorian's jaw, a trace of the desire from last night gleamed in his eyes and Dorian smiled into the kiss placed on his lips. The elf pulled away before Dorian had a good grip, standing up and looking through the clothes strewn across the floor for his smalls and a pair of pants. He couldn't find his shirt and ended up leaving half naked to answer his door.

Dorian spread himself across the bed, inhaling Mahanon's scent left in his pillow. Smiling to himself, he listened as the Inquisitor answered the door.

"Cullen, you're up very early today," he remarked offhandedly.

"Inquisitor, I need you too look into something, it's about the slaves you rescued in the Wastes this past week..." Cullen trailed off, then added, "Mahanon, are you alright?"

"Hm? Yes, why would you ask?" the sleep was still in his voice, of course he had forgotten.

"You're bruises, I thought you'd already gone to see a healer," Cullen said, tone serious.

Silence. Then;

"N-no! I'm fine trust me, just a...Tevinter got his hands on me," he left it at that with a good hearted laugh and Dorian even heard a chuckle - albeit a nervous one - from their Commander.

"Right, as you were."

___________________________________

Mahanon and Dorian dressed slowly, exchanging quips at each other. Mahanon on Dorian's disheveled hair ("Never speak of this to Vivienne.") and the opposite on those blasted marks left from the night before.

"Don't chastise me, they were your doing," the elf said with a laugh, looking at his own meager attempts on Dorian's dark skin. A glint in Mahanon's eyes barely registered to the taller man as the other closed the space between them, kissing lightly at his neck before choosing a spot to bite and suck. A small moan escaped Dorian as both sets of hands roamed the others' bodies. Dorians hands settled at the top of Mahanon's pants and the elf stopped biting, satisfied with his work.

"I still have work to attend to," he said into his neck and Dorian chuckled.

"I suppose it was a little much to hope for, you certainly tire me out, I may very well stay in your bed the whole day," he replied with a smile playing the corners of his lips.

"I won't be too long," Mahanon promised.

___________________________________

Mahanon headed towards the war room, running a hand along a stray bruise that peeked above his shirt collar.

"Well shit, no way no one will notice that."

He brushed his fingers through the short hair at the top of his head and pushed open the large doors, finding his advisors milling around. And of course, as astute as ever, Leliana commented on his state within minutes.

"Rough night, Inquisitor?"

Josephine looked his way and his face grew heated as she quickly found the spymaster's point of interest.

"Dorian can be...persistent," he mumbled and the girls giggled. 

Cullen cleared his throat and gestured to the map laid before them, Mahanon was grateful for the distraction.

___________________________________

"Sera, I have the report of the march in Verchiel, it went well," Mahanon entered her room with the report in hand, he glanced up at her and she burst into her hard, chiding laughter.

"What the shite's that on your neck?" she said between breaths. Mahanon covered it with his hands, _Creators guide him._

"Oooh I get it, even the Inquisitor belongs to someone, that someone must like his little seat of power yeah?" she almost sounded displeased but the laugh was still there. 

"I don't belong to anyone," he defended weakly.

"Right, if that's true tell 'im to get down off that throne," she ended their conversation in laughter and Mahanon simply left the report on the table, heading downstairs.

"Mahanon!"

_Shit._

"You need something Bull?"

"You seem tense, care for a drink with my boys?" Bull was cheerful as always and the elf stood near the bottom of the stairs.

"Isn't it a little early for drinks?"

"Nonsense," Krem chimed in, pressing a drink to hand, the taller man squinted at the elf and called Bull over, "Hey cheif, look at this."

"I should really-" 

Bull had already stood up and crossed the space between them.

"Ah, you and the Vint been busy?"

"I suppose," Mahanon looked at the drink in his hand and took a sip, it was disgusting but sure had a kick. Trying his best not to cough and splutter he explained, "It was just-"

"No need to explain to us boss, we all know the marks of great sex," Bull chuckled and slapped his back.

"Can anyone even bruise Qunari skin like that cheif?" Krem asked laughing.

"Probably if you hit us with a hammer, which sounds odd but it was a pretty big turn on." 

They all laughed and Mahanon excused himself, promising to drink to the Chargers another time. 

___________________________________

Mahanon entered his quarters and climbed up the stairs to address his personal mail. He found Dorian lounging on his couch with a book. He crossed straight to his desk and rifled through the papers.

"So! Anything interesting happen?" Dorian asked, not raising his gaze from his book.

"Aside from nearly everyone asking about my sex life, nothing really."

"Oh but that's always the most intriguing topic," Dorian said wryly, closing his book and closing the space between them. The elf turned and sat on his desk, the taller man putting himself between Mahanon's legs. 

"People need to know you belong to no other," he said lowly, hands brushing along Mahanon's torso. The elf's arms found a way around his neck and he laughed.

"Tired of the rumors already?"

"Better to be fact not fiction, eternally more interesting and not so much room for doubt."

The elf smiled and pressed his forehead to Dorian's, whispering, " _Ma vhenan_."

Dorian didn't need a translator to smile at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer chapter! I get the feeling an elf's skin would bruise easy. Thanks for the kudos, they make it easier to write!


	4. Your Protector

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All these precarious battles make Dorian afraid for the Inquisitor, but can he really keep his love from danger?

Once again, thrown into the obscenity that was the Hissing Wastes, Dorian was not having what he would call a good time. Sure there were breaks periodically through the week in their camps for time alone with Mahanon and some wine he'd smuggled in his horse's side bag, but what about the Wastes was _fun?_

The Inquisitor, Dorian, Cassandra, and Iron Bull prepared to trek back into the dunes, presumably to look for a "mythological" beast. It wasn't a dragon and that dampened Bull's attitude slightly. _"It will be worth it!"_ the elf had claimed, trying to put pep into their steps. 

The night was getting duller as they proceeded slowly, leaving their mounts at the camp out of habit. A light in the distance caught Dorian's eye and he tugged the sleeve of their leader. Without saying anything they changed direction, hands tensed for their weapons as they approached the fire.

The Inquisition party saw the slavers and attacked before they were ready. Mahanon and Dorian calling upon their magical links while Cassandra and Bull rushed ahead. A shout here, a fireball there and the Tevinter slavers were dead. Still quiet they searched the camp.

"Inquisitor," came Cassandra's voice. The elf approached a young elven boy, no older than Cole, tied in shackles near a mobile cage, another young man's body lay lifeless in the cage. Dorian heard his love's breath catch as they approached.

"P-please, don't hurt me!"

"You have nothing to fear from me."

The obvious anger in Mahanon's voice made the ex-slave wince, noticing, he recomposed himself and squatted in front of the young man.

"Join the Inquisition, you can work for money, we've freed slaves before you, we - I want to help you."

"T-thank you!"

Mahanon gestured towards their camp and sent him on his way. The elf let out a sigh, turning back to the rest of his companions, his eyes resting on Dorian. A look Dorian did not like to see.

"When does it end?" It came out angry and shaky.

"Mahanon can we not discuss this privately?" Dorian wasn't fond of the idea of letting Cassandra and Bull witness the chinks in their relationship. The slight desperation in his voice apparently did not sit well with the Inquisitor.

"No, we can't. When does it end? Ever? Will your people always use mine as their slaves? Will you always work us to death?" He spat furiously, gesturing pointedly to the dead slave still in the cage. 

"Mahanon you know how life is like in Tevinter, do you not remember me telling y-"

"Ah yes, 'Tevinter would crumble without their slaves' but would it _be such a bad thing_ ," he spat back, his nose scrunched in rage, voice carrying. Cassandra and Bull both looked like they wanted to say something but Dorian held up a hand to them.

"You know my stance on slaves in Tevinter, they lead lives of comfort and raise their families. I will never understand your love for alienages, at least the poor in Tevinter can sell themselves for some respect!" Dorian was starting to get mad.

"You of all people, I can not believe you," Mahanon's fists were clenched so tight his knuckles had turned almost white. "At least in an alienage an elf can lead his own life! Work at a job he loves, has basic freedoms, can love who he wants!"

A flinch twitched his shoulders ever so slightly, but Dorian retorted, "Look, I know you, a Dalish, would be the last to understand but that's how it is, I want to change it, you know that, but I would not claim that I didn't love my country," he had his finger in the elf's face, a tragic mistake. Mahanon lashed out with both hands, shoving Dorian to the ground, he sat on the Tevinter's chest and grabbed the collar of his shirt, lifting his head so they're faces were inches apart. A similar situation to a few nights ago, though with significantly less love in the elf's eyes.

"Don't you dare tell me I wouldn't understand, I understand that your people took half my clan when I was a child and three of our hunters ended up dead. Don't tell me I wouldn't understand that Tevinter would fall when I watched good people fall to the swords of _your people_. Don't tell me I wouldn't understand your love for your country when I love my clan more than myself," Mahanon's voice was so low Dorian questioned if the other two even heard him. 

"Maha-"

"No. I am not finished, answer me this; do you love your idea of slavery more than me? Would you stand for your slavery, and keep your traditional Tevinter, or me and the Inquisition, and make the change you so desired in the first place?"

"Boss, company," Bull said urgently, already retrieving his greatsword.

The elf didn't even glance back down, nor wait for an answer as he stood and brought forth a barrier upon the two warriors as they marched to battle a huge, brightly colored wyvern and it's gurgot companions. Dorian had scrambled back up and cast his own barrier on the two mages. 

Generally, Mahanon and Dorian could manage fighting back to back while the two warriors fought close-quarters but they weren't thinking together any longer. As much as the pain in his chest hurt, Dorian tried his best to focus on complementing Mahanon's attacks. Until he made a mistake. Not Dorian of course, but the instant the elf lit up blue, summoning his Fade-step, his heart sank. The flash was quick as he parted from his side, instantly closer to the two warriors. The Tevinter's barrier couldn't possibly reach both of them. 

A huge lizard came from behind Mahanon, before Dorian could even register what was happening it lashed out, jaws wide. It clamped harshly down on his abdomen, issuing a scream of agony as his staff dropped. The gurgot shook it's head, spraying the elf's blood everywhere. A sudden bolt of lightening to it's eye forced a horrible growl from the beast as it dropped it's prey. 

Dorian heard nothing around him as he rushed the beast, the two warriors occupied still by the wyvern. More lightening surrounded him, lashing out at the gurgot until it's death. He immediately turned to the still body, face down in a puddle of blood, which was seeping into the sand. _Maker, if you've any love for your subjects, do not let him die._ He gingerly turned the smaller man over, the teeth had gone straight through the leather and cloth, and the bleeding wasn't stopping. He held Mahanon's head in his lap as he tried the only healing spells he knew.

Quite suddenly Dorian felt a stab of pain in his shoulder, not like it was broken, he knew what that felt like. No, like something pierced him. He didn't have to look down as the second arrow flew past his head, warm liquid pooled down his arm, mixing with the elf's on the ground.

"Mahan...on," was what he let out before pitching forward into the sand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not relevant to their romance but Your Protector by Fleet Foxes was my inspiration besides your kudos! ♥


	5. I Won't Wait for Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian gets a surprise from Mahanon!

Dorian woke in a nice soft bed with an incredible headache. His glimpse of the ceiling told him he was back in Skyhold, within one of the rooms used to heal soldiers, now occupied by the Tevinter. He looked at his shoulder, wrapped in bandages, and the rest of his bare chest.

He signed before trying to lift himself from the blankets. A searing pain in his shoulder made him freeze in his tracks. Biting back a shout he lowered himself back but not before a laugh came from the other side of the room.

"Shit _that_ looked like it hurt!" came Bull's carrying voice.

"Ah yes, laugh all you like," Dorian retorted in a friendly tone. "Why are you here, Bull?"

"Wanted to see if you had woken up yet, you've been out for two days."

"Two days?! Is Mahanon alright?"

"He actually woke up a few hours ago."

"I expect you'll be wanting to see the Inquisitor," came the softer voice of the healer near his bedside, a statement, not a question.

Bull chuckled before Dorian could even blush. 

"I'll help you to him," Bull said, rising from his chair, coming around the side of the Tevinter's bed and wrapping an arm around his non-injured shoulder. "But be warned, he's on a lot of shit, so he's drowsy and probably not thinking straight."

Hauling the Vint's ass out of bed took a little more effort than originally planned.

"Ouch!"

"Well stop squirming."

"Oh you try getting shot through with an arrow and we'll see how much you like it!"

"Let's go Your Majesty."

"Oh please."

After Dorian was up, he was helped into a loose shirt and took his leave from Bull, nodding to the healer as he opened his door slowly.

"Last door on the left," came Bull's voice from Dorian's room. He lifted his non-injured arm in a wave and padded slowly to his love's door.

He knocked once and it opened with ease. Mahanon's personal healer smiled knowingly at him and ushered him in. She closed the door behind her, murmuring about getting more hot water. Mahanon was lying on his back, hands folded on his own bare chest, bandages wrapped around most of his torso. Dorian looked upon him lovingly, yet worriedly. The elf's hair was slick with sweat and his jaw was noticeably clenched. His eyes looked dark, almost brown, and they blinked towards the ceiling, not acknowledging Dorians presence, and Dorian didn't wait for him to.

"How are you feeling?" he said as he pulled up a chair with one good arm. It rested near his head and Dorian put both hands on the bed, folded.

"Could be worse. I could be dead."

His answer was unusually snippy and self-depreciating. Dorian did another once-over of his face, his brow was relaxed, his eyes half-way closed but there was still a hardness in his expression.

"Mahanon... We should talk about what happened before the attack." His voice was casual, but prying.

"There is nothing I wish to discuss," his voice was like ice, piercing through Dorian. Mahanon turned his head away from Dorian and he sat up straighter. He lightly put his hand on Mahanon's shoulder and the elf slapped it away. He watched Mahanon cringe in pain, but he sat too shocked to reach out again.

"Maha-" the pain in Dorian's voice surprised him.

"Leave me."

His voice cracked, "Amatus-"

"Don't... Don't call me that. Please, just leave."

Dorian rose quickly, knocking his chair back and over. He said nothing else, but turned on his heel, flung open the door--painfully--and consequently slammed it behind him. He was breathing heavy and he paced back and forth in front of the Inquisitor's door. He quickly gave up and went back to his room, which had been vacated. He sat on the edge of the bed and wiped away a stray tear.

_Why Mahanon?_

Dorian didn't know what had gotten into the elf but he wasn't going to give up on him. There was something else bothering him and he was pushing him away instead of letting him help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly don't know what these titles are they suck, also sorry for grammar mistakes AND not updating this in so long!


	6. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian tries to find a way to make it up to Mahanon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's smut time naughty children :3c

After three days of not speaking to one another, Dorian was informed Mahanon had been released from the infirmary and was back to his regular duties. His heart aches more than usual as the Tevinter organized the library, researching for the Inquisition. 

At some point Dorian had fallen asleep asleep at his desk, an open book of known demons now being used as a pillow. He had fallen asleep thinking of Mahanon and their fight, how it was so difficult for him to admit that he was wrong. His dreams showed him Mahanon's smiling face, his black vallaslin making his best features more prominent. He relived the day Mahanon said he wanted everything with Dorian, no more flings, just them. He dreamt about their late nights of rough love-making, their early morning tender kisses, their afternoon promises to each other. 

"I love you."

"I won't be long."

"I'll see you tonight."

"Amatus."

"Emma lath."

Dorian woke with a start. It was dark outside and his candles were flickering lamely. His throat was tight, on the verge of tears again, it seemed. 

_I can't do this anymore._

He needed, desperately, to make it up to Mahanon. He couldn't live without him, he knew that. But was there any way to do that? Dorian rubbed his face with his hands.

_If I don't do this now it might be too late._

He stretched his arms, careful not to strain his injured arm. He stood and closed the book on demons, adding it to his "read" pile. He glanced around his nook and across the way, the workers at the research tables had all gone to bed. Glancing to his left he saw Vivienne's lights on. _Working_ very _hard I assume._

He made his way to the stairs and crept down them slowly, not that he cared if he disturbed Solas, but because he was still nervous and unsure. He glanced at the elf sitting at his desk with a steaming cup of tea and continued to the great hall. 

As he made his way towards Mahanon's quarters he lavished at the way the light from the moon illuminated the throne. The pale blue light made it look daunting, like anyone but the Inquisitor would fall if they touched it. Like no one would be fit enough to rule from such a powerful position. Except Mahanon. 

_That elf could do anything,_ he thought bitter sweetly to himself. He approached the heavy oak door slowly and stopped himself. He stared blankly into the wood, pondering what to say. 

_Fuck it all._

Two raps at the door and Dorian stopped himself short, getting cold feet. The pit of his stomach dropped, _Odd, I've never felt nervous to speak with anyone before._

Lost in thought, he was surprised when a weary-looking Mahanon opened the door. The elf's eyes started low but perked up to the Tevinter's face, a quizzical look in them.

"Yes?"

"I was wondering if you might lend me some of your time?"

The Inquisitor stepped neatly to the side and opened the door enough for him to slip inside. Without a word he closed the door behind him and led Dorian up the stairs. As if it wouldn't be hard enough _not_ to stare at his ass as it was at eye-level going up the stairs, but he had on a fairly tight pair of pants, leaving nothing to imagination. Dorian avoided his eyes, he wasn't here to gawk at Mahanon's body. 

As they reached the top of the stairs, Mahanon made for his desk, leaning against it with his arms folded. 

"Why are you here."

"I'm here to apologize."

"For what?" he sounded slightly surprised but didn't unfold his arms. Dorian took a few steps closer and looked at his love's face, a view he missed so much. 

"I was wrong, I would never chose Tevinter's ways over the Inquisition. Over you."

Mahanon didn't look impressed and Dorian sighed, scratching the back of his head. He looked up, hoping he looked more serious than before. 

"You know me, Mahanon, I was never a slave, I had a life of luxury in Tevinter, I gave that up, all of it, to be here. I could've gone back a thousand times but it would be empty without you. Without your cause. You helped those slaves in the Wastes, you care about everyone and I love you for it. I love you for everything you do. I'm incredibly sorry, I hope you know that." 

Mahanon nodded and looked at the floor, back to Dorian, and then out his window. 

"It's not your fault," he finally said.

"Now you've got me confused," Dorian said lightly. 

"I...I know you don't believe in everything Tevinter stands for," he started hesitantly. "I know what you gave up to be here."

The tear that sped down Mahanon's cheek was almost too fast for Dorian to see. The glint of silver light caught his eye and he closed the space between them, but not yet touching the elf. Mahanon raised one arm to press his close-fisted palm to wipe it away and Dorian instinctively placed a hand on his love's hip.

Dorian's touch seemed to have instantly melted Mahanon's cold front because he placed his opposite hand on Dorians shoulder and leaned into the Tevinter. Dorian wrapped his arms around him and held him as the elf's body shook. Dorian couldn't help but feel relief as well as sadness warm his stomach. 

"I'm so sorry, Dorian."

"I've missed you, Amatus."

The got him a shaky laugh and Dorians grip tightened. 

After a while, Mahanon's sobs had ceased and he pulled back from Dorian, wiping away the last of his tears. He looked into Dorian's eyes and smiled. 

"I love you too, you said it earlier," he quipped. 

Dorian laughed and placed a hand on the elf's cheek, bringing their faces closer in a heated kiss. Mahanon broke first and took the taller mans hand, leading him behind to the bed.

"Mahanon, you were just mad at me for days on end..."

The elf laughed and turned around, taking a few steps backwards to keep leading Dorian. "I'm not saying I missed you just for sex but...It has been on my mind."

"Oh really," Dorian spoke, a coy tint to his voice. 

Mahanon reached the bed, his hands already at the ties on Dorians trousers, meanwhile Dorian slipped his own tunic over his head and laid it on top of his pants. He turned attention the Mahanon's top, pulling it roughly over the elf's head. He leaned his head closer and kissed Mahanon's neck like it was the first time they had made love, sloppy and with a burning passion. Dorians hands found the elf's cock through his trousers and he ran his hand atop of it.

"Mm, don't tease me you vile man," Mahanon muttered into Dorian's mouth, his own deft hands slipping inside the Tevinter's smalls. Dorian smiled and undid the ties at Mahanon's waist, letting his pants fall. He leaned over the elf until he was forced onto the bed, climbing on top of his love. 

Mahanon was damn good with his hands, he would admit, but Dorian was good with his mouth. He trailed hot kisses down the elf's stomach but stopped once he felt the scars of teeth punctures. He sat up and Mahanon sighed, looking at the ceiling. 

"I never did get to see these," Dorian said, trailing fingertips around them, mapping them in his head. 

Mahanon raised a knee to run against Dorians length and snapped him into focus. He pressed his knee down and lowered his head to kiss the end of the elf's cock as he moaned. Dorian ran his tongue up and down his length before engulfing it in his mouth. His rhythm was slow and it made Mahanon jittery. Just as the elf started to breath harder he pulled away, wiping his drool from the member. 

"Do you still keep the oil in your desk?"

"Mhm."

Dorian quickly got up and retrieved it from the top drawer, pouring some in his hand and rubbing along his own cock as he walked slowly back. He climbed back onto the bed as Mahanon lifted his legs into the Vints thighs. Dorian teased his opening, staring wryly at the Inquisiotor's face. 

"Are you really going to make me beg for it?"

"I considered it."

"Dorian please--ah"

Mahanon moaned as Dorians cock was slowly guided into him, up to the hilt. He had forgotten what it was like to be inside his love and he gained more pleasure as Mahanon moaned. He leaned forward and brought his face towards the elf, Mahanon's hands clawed at Dorians back as they shared heated kisses.

Dorian pulled out a little and thrust back in quickly, after two more of these and a handful of "Creators _yes_ ," and "Don't stop," Dorian started a pace of thrusts. He started slow but built speed, he felt immense pleasure building in his stomach, every moan and kiss furthering him along. 

"Dorian-- I'm coming!" He felt Mahanon contract around him and suddenly pulse rapidly as Mahanon reached climax. Dorian let out a shout as he himself came, and he didn't stop thrusting as he felt Mahanon quiver beneath him, as he went numb except overwhelming pleasure move from his stomach to his cock. He left out another, softer shout as he felt his release pool inside his love. 

Dorian's arms shook as he held himself above Mahanon, slowly pulling out. He laid down next to Mahanon who turned towards him, reaching one hand to cup his face. Breathing hard, he muttered something in Elvhen and smiled, kissing Dorian roughly. 

Afterwards, Mahanon fell asleep with his arms wrapped around Dorians torso and he rested his own head on his arm, gently running his fingers through Mahanon's hair as he slept. 

"I've missed you, Amatus."


End file.
